


Born of starlight

by ULTIOcean



Series: Starbound [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Is hard, LITERALLY, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance is not human, Lance's childhood, Pre-Canon, Starboy Lance, a smidge of angst, and even more for him, and everyone else too - Freeform, he struggles to find out why, he wants to find out who he is, he's a star, he's loved by the universe, lance pov, like literally speaking, self discovery, with some changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ULTIOcean/pseuds/ULTIOcean
Summary: At first, he couldn't understand what the sweet songs he heard meant, neither why no one but him seemed to be able to hear them. The tongue the stars spoke felt foreign but also familiar, warm, and he sought their radiance and the love they basked him with.Growing up, though, he came to the realizaion that those symphonies were calls, messages left for him in hopes that, one day, he would be able to decipher them, to reach towards the sky and hold the hand tended to him. They were always waiting, always trying to contact him, their kind voices filled with affection and yearning and a strong desire to protect him, keep him safe, while at the same time they wanted to meet him, hold him, cherish him.Lance, they called him.And he, mesmerized by everything that bathed the night sky in an ocean of lights, completely enraptured by it's beauty and the need to be there, to reach back, to understand, sought answers while time flew past.Against his mother's wishes, fighting his frustration and inadequacy and the pressure of wanting to give up, stubborn as only McClain's could be, filled with determiantion, fear be damned.And then, one night, his wish came true."Mommy, mommy I'm a star."





	Born of starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! The companion piece to my other fanfic 'Child of the stars', this time, the same story is told, but from Lance's POV, so you get more insight on what was happening around him and why he acted the way he did.
> 
> I really loved writing this one, i was insipred when i did so and i think the result is a-okay, hope you guys enjoy it too.
> 
> The last and final part of this story will be chaptered, and canon-compliant until some point, it will be posted once is finished, so it will take some time, since my main fic is always re-do (which is going well, thank u for coming back to me, muse), but meanwhile, you can read the first two as standalones. ;)
> 
> Love you guys! ULTI. <3

* * *

At two years old, as unbelievable as it would seem, he'd been aware of everything that happened around him. He understood that Alejandro was the name his mama had given him, and that, when she called him, he needed to go towards her or at least pay attention to her. If he did that, she would shower him with love and cuddles and tell him how proud she was of him, how smart he was and, if she had enough time, play with him for a while.

He couldn't walk, at first, and if he grew bored and had no one to keep him company, he soon threw a small fit in hopes that one of his brothers or sisters turned up to see what all the ruckus was about, and, hopefully, stay with him.

It didn't work, most of the time.

The youngest of his sisters was still all the fingers of one hand - _five?_ \- older than him, and even though his mami always tried to get them to play with him, they were always busy with other things, and he soon learnt that, as much as his family tried their best to make time for him, it wasn't nearly enough, and the loneliness grew until he didn't know what to do with himself.

He didn't want to be selfish, though, his _mami_ was overworked, and his _papi_ was always tired from work, slaving away too many hours for money that wasn't ever enough to sustain a family of seven. Even from his place on the ground, he could see clear as day the fatigue clinging to his parents' shoulders and face, could hear the sighs of relief as they sat down after a long day and the beginnings of sleep trying to claim their minds, eyelids falling shut against their will.

So he _did_ nothing, he _said_ nothing. He tried not to cry, not to ask for attention, he only spoke up when he was hungry, needed a change, or wanted to sleep, and the rest of the time he smiled at them, did things that he knew adults found adorable or funny, and hoped that it worked to at least relax them a little.

Everytime he got a smile back, it was worth it.

Then, one day, out of the blue, he began hearing them. Whispers of voices singing in his ear, feeling like they were heard through a filter, distorted and broken up, pieces of something far greater than he could imagine trying to reach him.

He had been sitting on a playmat, close to the lounge, and the murmurs had been coming from the backyard, the one that overlooked the place his mama said was dangerous because of the ocean. But he didn't want to go swimming, he didn't even want to touch the sand that was always warm under his toes, he wanted to find where the voices were coming from, what they were saying. They were warm and familiar, like his mommy when she sang to him, and he needed to know.

So, with all the force he could muster, he rose from his sitting position, leaning on the sofa, and walked, slowly and wobbly, towards the door that led outside, babbling as he caught a silver of the night sky from one of the windows, eager to look at it without anything blocking the view.

He pouted and babbled and hoped his mommy understood, hands knocking on the wooden door, asking to be let out. She seemed to be having doubts, and asked him to reconsider, saying that the backyard was dangerous at night, that he could hurt himself, that he should just stay inside and play with her.

But seeing as he wouldn't stop pouting and patting the door like a cat, she eventually relented, muttering about having an adult supervising him so he could play outside. And then, as soon as she opened the door, he was walking towards the porch on unsteady feet, head lolling backwards to gaze upon the beautiful shimmering of glitter sprinkling the sky.

He plopped down as soon as his eyes landed on the stars dotting the black canvas that was the night sky, and his eyes sought to find the source of the whispers, find out who was saying his name, the name that was similar to the one his _mami_ had given him, but _different_.

While outside, the whispers reached him more easily, but they still felt faraway and fuzzy, and he could only catch letters that put together formed the name that resounded like a sizzling flame inside his chest, the sounds being sung to him in a lullaby of love and wonder and longing.

 _L_ -a- **n** -c-e

 **M** - _o_ -t-h-e- **r**

 _H_ -o- **m** -e

It filled his heart with warmth and made his eyes tear up. They were asking for him, crying for him, full of joy and a deep desire to reach out and hold him, the force of their will so deep, that he felt himself reach out in response, hands outstretched towards them as he closed his hands, wishing he was able to hug them, quell their sadness and worry and appease their cries.

"Ma-ma, ca-sa....ho-me?"

But he didn't know where they were, couldn't see them amongst the numerous lights shining for him, brighter and more colorful when he gazed at them, as if they were telling him they knew about his presence, that he was watching, and that they received his feelings.

He felt as though the sweet voices like chiming bells were trying to convey the happiness of his birth, how much joy he brought to them, how important his existence was. Their songs soon became a symphony, an echo of affection that covered him in a warm blanket, akin to hands caressing his cheeks and running through his hair, kisses on his forehead and hugs that felt tender, albeit fleeting.

He was willing to stay outside for hours, feeling the breeze caress his skin and getting swept by the comforting waves of emotion washing over him, but then his mommy came and hugged him, warm and soft and happy, blowing raspberries at him as they both giggled. And he momentarily forgot about all the questions swirling in his head and the things he wanted to understand, drowning in his _mami's_ love and the sound of her laugh.

He slept soundly that night, and repeated the same routine the day after, and the one after that, and the next, and all the days his mommy would let him outside, since she banned him from going unless an adult was with him. He understood, but he missed the others, the ones always reaching out for him, he wanted them, wanted to feel their fondness and care.

So he resorted to crying, he wept and screamed in hopes that his mommy would let him out, back to gaze at the wondrous sky that wanted to tell him many things, none of which reached him.

But she was steel and determined in her decision, and unless his papa or one of his older brothers were there, he was to stay at home, resorting to look at the stars through a window while he longed to go out, to where the cheerful notes became an upbeat rhythm, creating a song only for him.

He continued looking at the night sky every time he could, specifically on the days where it was clear, and devoid of clouds, rain or mist. He awed at their beauty and continuously basked in the love they showered him with.

Shooting stars.

Meteor showers.

Comets passing by.

He grew to love the stars.

\--

At five years old, he'd learnt that he liked people a lot, and that the sentiment was reciprocated. He'd also liked to play pranks on his neighbors and jumpscare anyone that was close by when he was on full mischievous mode, but that's besides the point.

He noticed that children his age liked his company, and he enjoyed being surrounded by them and their smiles, he loved making them laugh and playing with them, cherished the way they seemed to burst with life when he joked or suggested doing something he knew one particular member of their group liked to do.

It was like he subconsciously knew when someone was in need of some serious cheering up, his eyes would wander around until they would settle on the one that shone duller than the others, and then his mind would conjure an idea, an image, and he would request that they play hide and seek, because Maria had seemed sad and she _loved_ that game.

After their game had ended, breathless and with rosy cheeks from running around, his eyes would rake over his group of friends, and when he noticed all the lights were as bright as the sun itself, he would sigh in relief, and smile wide and proud, knowing it had been _him_ who had rekindled that light, that warmth.

He really liked spending time with the neighbor's children, and even the older ones ended up attending their little play dates, striking up conversation with him as he tried to keep up, intent on soothing the darkness that threatened to cloud their shine, the troubles of their teenage years something they weren't ready to confront yet.

Whether it be with a smile or hug or mindless chatter on his part, he fought to brush the gloom away and light that glow once more, make them shine bright and beautiful as he knew they could. And, everytime they did, he could feel something inside his chest lit up in resonance, a fire shimmering ablaze, full of warmth and radiance as he basked in the glow of those surrounding him, making him sparkle, brighter each time, as if the other's glow fueled his own flame, his light, creating a harmony that brough forth a sense of peace.

That ended up drawing in the adults as well, and he soon found himself shooing their troubles away, even if it was for a short time, trying to bring some peace to their busy lives, turn their frowns into smiles and make their tense shoulders relax, bring them comfort.

It was different than with the children, with them, a simple joke or compliment or playing their favorite game or telling them how pretty they were, was enough to turn their inner light from an ember to a raging fire, cheerful, blinding, happy and carefree.

With the teenagers, it felt more like he was holding an umbrella in between them and their troubles, shielding them from harm with his mindless chat and fleeting touches, giving them reprieve and courage until they were ready to face their monsters.

The adults, on the other hand, he couldn't completely appease, no matter how hard he tried. Their inner spark was smothered by too many things, responsibilities, troubles, work, sleepless nights, worry, their thoughts a swirling whirlpool that clouded any ray of light that hoped to get through the dark clouds shadowing them.

He couldn't make all of that disappear, that wasn't what he did.

What he _could_ do, however, was fuel that light, that small glimmer of hope and energy that dwelled deep within their hearts, make it grow to a healthy size so it would overwhelm the upsetting feelings bringing them down and boost the positive ones.

Confidence, bravery, optimism. Those feelings would lead them to the right path and continue to grow by themselves, as long as they were nurtured and taken care of, and their hearts would feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted, and they would smile at him.

And he would smile back, happy that he'd managed to ease their suffering.

His mom always said that he loved being in company most of the time, and, while that was absolutely true -he thrived surrounded by others- , he also cherished solitude and the quiet moments when it was only him and the stars, with the sound of the waves lapping at the shore and his pen scribbling on the margins of his Astronomy book.

He actually hadn't known what being an astronomer meant until his brother mentioned it last month, saying that his best friend wanted to be one to study the stars and everything that had to do with them and the universe. And he'd been curious, asking about what an astronomer did and about the stars and the universe and everything his older brother knew, and Julian, always kind and soft, answered each and every one of his questions with a smile on his face, fondness glinting in his blue eyes as he spoke.

He'd decided he wanted to be an Astronomer after that. After all, that might help him decipher what the stars where trying to say, what he heard only in snippets and broken pieces, whispers and songs no one else seemed to hear.

He heard the words, for many years now, but as he grew older, he could distinguish them with more clarity, and even though he knew what he was hearing was not in _English_ or _Spanish_ , he could still understand, could still pronounce the words and hold their meaning and write them down. It should have scared him, but it didn't, he was still far from understanding the complexity of the -what he hoped was a- message he was receiving, and his notes were nothing but doodles and badly written words, but he didn't give up, _wouldn't_.

He continued watching the night sky intently, pronouncing foreign words that tasted sweet on his tongue, thinking that, if he continued to do so, he might come to an understanding way sooner and quell his anxiousness. But, sadly, it didn't happen, and, one night, his mom approached him and asked him a question, one he didn't know how to answer, her face tight and lips pursued with a frown.

"Alejandro, son, why do you stare at the sky so intently? What does it hold that it takes your breath away every single time? What is it that brings you back every night and holds your will in a tight grip? So strong to even make you want to dedicate your life to research it's mysteries." He'd gulped and focused on the Summer triangle, Altair, Deneb and Vega shining as bright as ever, his eyes allowing him to see them perfectly, even with so much distance between them.

The whispers were always there, as he spoke to his mom, as he slept, as he watched over them, the voices never stopped, never relented, it was as if they were trying to reach for him, asking questions he didn't have the answers to, telling stories he couldn't hear, it was as if....

" _No lo se, mama_. I don't know, it feels like they're calling me." Incessantly, desperately, like they were crying because he was so far away, so out of their reach. It was like they were in pain, screaming for closure, for him to listen, for them to meet in an embrace that would give him everything he needed, that everything would make sense _then_.

And he felt his eyes tear up with longing, aching to hold their hands back and return their love, but....but he _couldn't_ , didn't know how to, and it hurt.

But not as much as when his mommy let out a pitiful sound and marched towards him, ripping his book from his hands and looking down on him, eyes glistening as the moonlight bathed them in a blanket of light.

"Alejandro, this obsession has gone on for too long, this needs to stop. You are forbidden to come stargazing ever again, do you hear me? I don't want you anywhere near a clear sky, this isn't healthy, I'm doing this for your own good, okay? Please understand." She turned away, glaring at the sky once before trekking back home, her back to him as tears began flowing from his eyes, unbidden and unexpected, but conveying exactly how he felt.

It felt like part of him had been ripped away, like she'd just taken away his ability to breath or talk, and he couldn't begin to imagine his life without the sweet echoes of the stars' songs ringing in his ears, couldn't bear the thought of not seeing the glitter-dotted sky ever again.

But more than that, he couldn't bear the disappointment and hurt in his mommy's face, the way she'd looked at the stars as thought they were her enemies, something she hated, because if that was how she felt, did that mean she hated him, too?

Chest heavy with a weight he didn't know how to carry, he cried and walked inside, heartbreaking lullabies following him in until he closed the door behind him, the sound feeling like finality, like a thread being cut, a connection snapped and broken.

His light dimmed and clouded like those he'd seen in the adults.

He didn't smile a lot after that day.

Didn't know how to.

\--

At ten years old, he'd been good at what he did, good at being sneaky and inconspicuous about his ' _secret_ ' activities. After that day five years ago, he'd felt like he'd died and lost what kept him going, he couldn't sleep, barely ate, and he felt that everything was meaningless. It lasted for a grand total of two weeks before he snapped himself out of it, it wasn't the end of the world, his mommy loved him, she was just worried and scared and wanted to protect him.

But he still needed _answers_ , and he wouldn't stop until his curiosity was sated, until the ache in his chest ebbed away and turned into starlight instead. It was difficult, at first, she never let him out of her sight, and she kept a tight schedule for him, making sure he was asleep before going to bed herself, and, well, he would have tried to stay awake, but he'd been five and a half, and his tiny body needed to recharge, so though luck.

After a while, though, she began slipping, and he got clever and crafty, he waited until she was asleep before waking up, a small alarm - on buzzing- set on his phone so he would wake up after midnight, notebook open and ready to be written in.

He would open his window as silently as he could and gaze into the vastness of space, trying to catch the snippets of words and sounds that fell over him like shooting stars. It wasn't the same as being completely outside, with just his head poking out, the sounds that reached him were even more distorted and static than when he was fully present, like they came through a filter. And it frustrated him to no end.

But he wouldn't give up, even if it was letter by letter, word by word, phrase by phrase, even if it took him years, he was willing to invest his time an effort into this, because the way his soul resonated with the songs sent to him was worth all the trouble he was going through.

He also took some of his free time and studied the universe when he could, going to the local library -saying he was gonna play with some friends- and browsing their shelves for knowledge on the matter and anything that seemed interesting enough. There was also the internet, and he was ready to learn how to use it -he had to go to an adult and ask them to teach him- and write down all he could, he was going to write a damn dissertation under his mom's nose and she wouldn't ever learn of it.

He hoarded everything that caught his attention, wrote down facts, made collages from newspapers and magazines, wrote down theories and kept a diary with whatever he could translate from the skies. And then, before he even noticed, half a year had already passed, and on his sixth birthday, his mommy finally lifted her ban on stargazing, apologizing for being so strict and telling him she'd just been worried because he'd been way too obsessed and that had concerned her.

She told him a curfew for when he could go outside at night, and asked him to please respect her rules, which he did, since it didn't tweak his plans in the least, only helped him work faster, since he could finally hear the voices clearer and bask in the all-encompassing affection that he still couldn't decipher.

He spent four years like that, he got frustrated, _yes_ , he got stuck and lost hope more than once, he doubted himself and what he was doing and even wanted to give up sometimes.

But he didn't.

He made friends, worked hard to get good grades, played with the kids and went camping and did a lot of wonderful things he really enjoyed, but he never forgot the goal he wanted to achieve, he combined his everyday life with his investigation and kept on hoping, kept on looking up at the night sky for answers.

And, one day, feet dipped at the shore and eyes fixated on Vega, the last piece of the puzzle finally fit together, and everything he'd ever written became a sonnet that spoke of beings as bright as sunlight, lives too beautiful and short, love that transcended blood and knew no bounds. Songs that spoke of kin and connections, of numerous threads bridged to him, of likeness and embraces and the word that he knew translated to ' _Family_ '.

He couldn't blink, couldn't look away from the Summer Triangle, he was mesmerized, the whispers confirming what he already knew, what he'd known all this time, what he'd denied to the very last day until the proof was so utterly definite he could do nothing but _accept it._

He knew his mom was calling him, knew she was worried and anxious and he should probably answer, but images of things that happened many millions of light years away flooded his mind. He saw supernovas, explosions of color that shone like dust and fire, cracks that extended until they reached the core and became alight.

He saw himself, and the light and fire and _life_.

And he _understood_.

His mom stood a few feet behind him, and he could finally tear his gaze away from the sky that had enchanted him for so many years and turn around, could finally comprehend the reason for the warmth and the love and the feeling of belonging that had always bubbled inside of him.

"Mommy. Mommy I'm a star." His mom backed a step, eyes wide with horror and dread, her beautiful face twisting into something sorrowful and heartbroken, hands shaking as they reached for him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He smiled at her, expression filled with grief.

"My life will be short but bright and filled with delight, the happiness I'll feel and share will bring joy to our lives and futures, no disease neither ailments will affect me, and when the time comes....I will fade in an explosion of light, firework-like bursts will illuminate the universe and bath it blue, and glitter-like space dust, pieces of my soul, will scatter throughout the universe to give birth to new light, new life." She gasped for breath, shaking her head while she clutched her chest, mouth opening to say something, only for a heart wrenching sob to take her words away, face contorted in anguish.

The same anguish that reflected in his eyes as he understood that he wasn't, isn't, and wouldn't ever be human.

"Mommy, mommy I'm a star."

Every child wants to hold a special place in their parents' hearts.

But not like this. Never like this.

\--

At fourteen years old, he'd completely closed off about his true nature and anything to do with it, feeling betrayed and broken and lost. That night, four years ago, when he'd shared with the person he loved and trusted the most the truth of his essence, he'd been let down, told that he had a wild imagination and that it was probably just tiredness speaking.

She'd said he'd hallucinated it, that it didn't happen at all.

The disappointment and bitterness that had taken over him broke his heart, and he hadn't been able to bear the sight of his mother any longer, smile wide and fake as terror and anxiety clouded her gaze. She'd probably wished everything had been a dream, and knowing that she preferred to ignore it, ignore a vital part of him, hurt much more than he could have ever imagined.

But it was what she'd wanted, so he'd delivered.

He never spoke of it again, even as the years passed by.

He took to stargazing again, kept a journal with everything that reached him, willing to decipher the new messages that were arriving, as if they knew he'd finally understood the first ones. Or maybe not, time traveled in weird ways in space, from what he'd learnt.

Still, more often that not, he went to the porch at night, when the wind blew stronger and the lullabies could be heard more clearly than ever, relaxing his tired shoulders and mind after yet another eventful day of his wonderful life.

Because it was. It was beautiful and full of laughter and joy. No matter how sad he was over the events that transpired, he could never hate his mother, could never blame her for being scared of something unknown. But the fact was that it _hurt_ , she hurt him, and that, he couldn't forget.

So he tried his best to keep his mind off those thoughts, he wandered off into adventures, helped at home with whatever he could, walked some of the neighborhood dogs to earn some money, cleaned the garden when he knew his mom's back hurt and she couldn't stay upright anymore, watched over his nieces and nephews when their parents came visit.

He listened to everyone's problems and tried his best to vanquish the dark clouds dimming their light, fought with his brothers and sisters, played with his cousins, listened to his mom and spent time with his dad. He lived life, and he enjoyed every second of it.

But as soon as his mama would ask about him, he would escape, like a coward, like a child, scared of being betrayed once more, he would deflect, and run, because, looking her in the eye was unbearable, and the pain that it caused him was deep and heartfelt. He would never talk about himself, how he was feeling, what he was thinking, what he wanted, or at least, not on the level his mom was expecting to hear, because for mindless, mundane things, he would complain and argue and be selfish.

But never when it mattered.

He never brought up that night, not even once.

Didn't have the courage to.

At fourteen years old, he found out what he really was, what it really meant, what fate awaited him, and the heavy weight of that future was nearly enough to crush him, images passing over his starlit eyes, pictures of hands intertwined together, laughter like chiming bells, an infinite loop fueled by love and destiny.

A sad gaze brightening until it burst.

The realization that he was powerless to change his karma.

That night, chest heavy with the knowledge that he'd attained, he found himself stargazing once more, feeling like the sky was crashing over him, like small droplets of starlight where landing on his cheeks, melting at the touch, making it look like he was crying.

He didn't know _why_ , but he couldn't cry.

And then his mom was behind him once more, reminiscent of that night four years ago, and he felt that, maybe, they could right the wrong that had brought them apart, and once she spoke, he was sure they could mend the trust that had been broken.

" _Alejandro, lo siento._ I'm sorry I didn't believe you, I'm sorry I was too scared to support you, I'm sorry I broke your trust, I'm sorry I messed up." He heard how her voice choked and she hiccupped, and knew without even turning around that she was crying, But he didn't know what to say, didn't know if he accepted her apology, not until she understood, until she believed the reality of his words.

"Did you know-?" He began. "That my sisters have been talking to me all this time?" So many of them, he had so many, he couldn't even count them with human numbers, they were numerous, and they all loved him, so dearly, so unconditionally.

"Your...your sisters are back home, waiting for you to eat dinner together....what...?" He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, catching her teary face and the steel in her gaze, wiling to reach out to her once more with the truth, hoping this time, the outcome would be different.

He smiled at her, and knew it carried all his sorrow.

"Not _those_ sisters. _These_ -he pointed to the starry sky- sisters. They have been trying to tell me things, about myself, about what I am, what it means...I have been listening to them for long time, trying to understand them. But their voices took years to travel from where they are, to me, and the snippets and fragments I received were incomplete, I could never piece together what they were saying, until now." Yes, it had been hard, he'd wanted to give up many times, but the stubbornness he inherited from his mom kept him going, his inner light kept him going, the prospect of knowing what he really was exciting and terrifying at the same time.

"It's taken me years just to form one paragraph, and what it says is not something you're going to want to hear." He clutched his hands together, looking through his lashes at his mom as she gulped, determination lighting up the flame that always warmed up whenever he was near.

"Tell me then, son, what your sisters up in the sky were singing to you." Surprise filled his being, and he felt a melancholic acceptance wash over him, taking over his features.

" _Mami_ , I'm probably not going to live past thirty." He let out a shaky sigh." Their race -mine too, I suppose- were known to contain too much energy inside them -they are stars, after all, some had human form, some didn't. But for those that were humanoid, it was difficult to keep that energy -their lifeforce- under wraps, it seeped away from every pore of their bodies, and that meant that their life slipped through their fingers, keeping their lifespan short, all of them bursting before their thirtieth summer."

He spoke as though all that data was being read from a history book, hurt less to thing of them as facts instead of the inevitable future that awaited him, inescapable, ultimate.

Alone.

"They had a system, though. They had...stabilizers...balancers? People that took their stray energy, making it flow through their body and then returning it and taking it again, making a loop while the other person did the same. That way, no energy was lost, and they were able to live together in harmony, in a cycle of taking and returning." It'd been beautiful when the images of two _starlings_ cycling had reached him.

One of his favorite sisters, Vega, had shown it to him, a cyan blue and wine red _starlings_ shining purple, embracing each other, taking and returning energy, the endless loop glimmering and shining with a myriad of colors and sparkles as it willowed around them like a wedding veil.

Captivating.

Lovely.

"Then....-her voice trembled as she spoke- you just need someone to do that, right? I...I'll do it, I'll be your stabilizer, I'll help you through this, we can do it, together." He froze and stopped breathing, willing himself not to cry. It meant the world that his mom was ready to do this for him, even though she didn't know what it entailed, even though she was terrified.

He felt like the abyss that had separated them no longer existed.

"That....won't be possible, _mami_. For that person is equal here to what we would call....soulmates, the love of your life." He heard a heart wrenching wail leave his mom's lips, and felt his heart breaking at the sound, his own eyes tearing up.

" They were stars, incandescent, they shined the same color as their soulmate when the both of them met, knowing they had found the chosen one, the other half of their cycle. But.....-he looked at her, lips trembling- but I'm _human, mami_ , I can't shine, I can't find my soulmate." She broke the distance that kept them apart and brough him into a hug as they both cried, her prayers and pleas going by unheard, but her warmth and love bringing him back home, taking away the pressure of being alone and scared and feeling so small for a world too big.

He hugged her tight, and felt it as she broke.

"We'll find a way, I promise, I promise, I- it'll be okay, I will protect you, with everything I have. I don't care if you have to flirt with everything that moves, I don't care how many dates I have to pay for, you'll find someone, you have to, it's inconceivable that your love won't be returned, we'll find them, we will, whatever it takes." He shook his head, knowing inside his heart of hearts that he could never live like that, didn't want to. He stepped away from her hold and looked her in the eye as the moon shed her blinding light upon them.

"No, no _mami_ , I don't want that." She opened her mouth- " I don't want to live wondering if the person I'll love will be the one, or if I will have to chose someone else to remain alive. When I fall in love, I want it to be from the bottom of my heart, I want to fall in love, and love that person because I chose to, not because some design written on the stars said so. Even if...-he let out a breathy sigh- even if it means I won't be with them for long, I want it to be my choice, _mami_ , please understand." He saw the conflict in her eyes, how she fought with herself, the need to keep him safe versus the need to respect his wishes, it was obvious it was tearing her up inside, and the guilt he felt weighted heavy in his gut.

He only wanted to be loved.

When she didn't answer he left her side and walked to the shore, dipping his feet on the swallow waters and squaring his shoulders, back straight and eyes looking at the horizon.

"Mom, when I'm old enough, I'm going to apply for the Garrison." He heard her gasp, the noise choked and disbelieving, but he didn't turn, he was determined, this was something he'd decided a long time ago, his decision was done, it was irrevocable.

"Why? Why would you-"

"I need to know who I am. I need to know why I was born." The tone of his mom's voice as she spoke filled him with anguish, but her words brought forth a wave of warmth and affection that warmed his skin and filled his chest with joy.

"You were born out of _love!_ Isn't that enough?" She sobbed on her cupped hands, and he wanted nothing more than to retract every single thing he'd said, make her smile again, set her fire ablaze like it'd been so many years ago.

But he couldn't do that, he couldn't lie to himself.

"I'm sorry, mom, I need to know why. Why the universe put it's youngest son on Earth, why I was born like this, why my sisters still call me desperately even to this day." He turned around and walked to her side, holding her hands tenderly and gathering all the love he felt, feeling it all the way from his feet to his fingertips until they reached his lips.

He smiled, and it felt true and light, like something had lifted and evaporated like mist, like something missing had been brough back into place.

"I hope you can forgive me." She chuckled brokenly, and he frowned, concerned.

"Don't be silly, there's nothing to forgive. You're just following your heart and I can't fault you for that, no matter how much it hurts." He took in a deep breath, smile threatening to break his face in half, and then, a laugh, loud and boisterous and from deep within his gut, unbidden and unstoppable, rose from the depths of his throat.

He laughed, and cried and giggled and it felt freeing and wonderful.

He mumbled about how good it felt to finally be able to let it all out, all his worry, his anxiousness, his fear. How liberating it was knowing someone else knew the truth, knowing that he wasn't alone anymore, that he had unconditional support.

He looked back towards the glimmering lights that were his sisters, and swore to be there as soon as possible, couldn't wait to meet them and know more about them.

After all, the stars and the universe were his family, too.

And family was really important to him.

\--

At sixteen, he more or less accepted everything that had to do with him being different, he assumed that he would probably never find his soulmate, and that his life would be short and plagued with uncertainty and ups and downs.

But precisely because of that, he decided he would live every day like it was his last, he put his heart and passion in everything he did, from baking a cake, to racing his sister to the park, to taking care of the small children that flocked to his side.

He loved life, loved the world and it's people, and they seemed to be at ease in his presence as he soothed their somber lights to bring forth their true shine, the resulting smiles filling him with joy and a sense of accomplishment.

His mom had told him to not give up, though, to search for his soulmate even with all the complications that stood between them, even when he didn't know what he was looking for, since he couldn't shine and he doubted his other half could, being human and all.

Still, he decided to go for it, anyway, and used his bubbly and cheerful personality, his positive energy and bad puns, to try and get a giggle out of a pair of beautiful ladies that were watching curiously over him with big blue eyes.

"Are you from outer space? Because your cuteness is out of this world." He fired some finger guns at his target, and not a second later, she was giggling and snorting, clapping her hands as her pigtails swayed back and forth. His older sister came from the kitchen, rolling her eyes at the scene, bending down to grab Ally and Annie, one in each arm, before raising an amused eyebrow at him.

"Lance, they are only three, you know they can't really understand your attempts at flirting, don't you?" He blushed and stammered and crossed his arms with a pout.

"I know, but gaining the confidence to do this in public is hard....I need to polish my technique, and I need to practice with someone." His sister chuckled, bouncing the twins up and down as they shrieked and laughed, clutching their mom with all their might.

"Yeah, okay, this is just a suggestion, but next time, try practicing with someone who can actually understand you." She chortled at his embarrassed face and left, the twins waving their hands goodbye at him from behind their mom's shoulders.

He practiced in front of a mirror after that, and a few months later, his charm had leveled up and his shame had all but disappeared, he didn't need that in his life when he knew he wasn't probably live long enough to meet his youngest older brother's children. He wanted to enjoy his life to the fullest, see all kinds of sights and experience a wide range of emotion, he wanted to fall in love and be loved and bath in the glow of warmth that he would share with his special someone.

He also found out that he greatly enjoyed harmless flirting with his neighbors and acquaintances, and anyone that graced his presence, really, as long as they were comfortable with it. He loved the sunny smile the grandmas would gift him with when he would compliment their brooches or headdresses, how they would giggle and pinch his cheeks and how their light, small and shining a dull grey in their old age, would flare up and pulsate pink, dancing with happiness and delight.

And then there were the children, dear gods, he knew he wanted at least four if he ever got married, those little things brightened his life like small suns, orbiting around him as if beckoned by his radiance, always staring up at him with awe as if he was something special.

Which he _was_ but that's besides the point.

The point was, that he was filled with glee everytime kids were around him, he would compliment their choice of Pokemon of the day, or the new sticker on their backpack, or the color of their ribbons or the cool design of their sneakers.

And that alone made them so happy, they would beam up at him and hug him, sometimes they would just giggle and hide behind their chubby little hands, and others, their eyes would widen and brighten up and they would excitedly explain in great detail about why their _thing_ was the coolest, or how their mom had bought it for them, or how much they loved their newborn little sister or bother.

And he would melt.

Things were going fantastic for him, so good, in fact, that oftentimes, he could almost forget about his impeding fate.

 _Almost_.

He kept busy to assure that those thoughts didn't overwhel him, though, he prepared events outdoors for the elderly, and even came up with weekly bingo sessions that everyone loved and enjoyed, with him as the spokesman. They would gather everyone that wanted to come -age aside- and use the terrace that overlooked the ocean, the one next to the library, to play the game and give off small prices that the local church donated to them.

Their games were usually interrupted by old Georgina and her bottle of wine, though, her mischievous laugh and the twinkle in her eye never a good sign when multitudes and games were involved. It usually ended with everyone slow-dancing together to songs that were definitely not for that kind of dance -last time they slow danced to Beyoncé, and Kesha before that-, drinking too much wine for their age and laughing to unhealthy levels.

But they always shone like a beacon when that happened, and it was obvious they were happy, so he couldn't complain, really.

There were also bad days, though, they always were. He could remember clear as day being seated on the sofa of the living room, his family crowed around him as his mom explained, calmly and in detail, just how special he really was, and what to expect if things ended up going wrong.

He had expected doubt, scepticism, maybe fear. What he got, instead, were hugs and kisses and warmth and love, and the promise to do whatever they could to help, keep him safe, make him achieve his dream, universe be damned.

He'd held back his tears and returned their sentiments.

And at night, when the echoes of sobs and pain reached his ears, when his family broke at the prospect of loss, he broke with them, and cried.

That had been months ago, though, right now, he was preparing to go to the Garrison in a week, finally. He'd studied his butt off to reach the highest grade he could, and his efforts had been rewarded, he now had a scholarship and was ready to travel and learn how to be a fighter pilot, the thing he'd dreamed on doing since he turned fourteen, maybe even earlier.

He was on the process of deciding which things he would take with him, and which not. And it was way more difficult than he thought, he wanted to pack everything, wanted to take all the photos and trinkets and stuff, although he knew that the Garrison didn't allow for many appliances and personal items.

They sucked.

He eyed his shirts and hoodies and jackets and frowned, pondering if it was really necessary to bring his hoodies with him, after all. They were old and their patterns and phrases were outdated, he needed to keep his cool image at the new school, and he couldn't dress like some old fashioned loser to do that, he had to wear his best.

But he still couldn't decide by himself, so he did the next best thing.

Ask his mom.

"Mama, which clothes do you think I should pack?" He didn't look back, awaiting her answer, but after a few seconds, she said nothing, and he whipped around to see her deep in thought, her brows furrowed and mouth upturned, like she was thinking about something sad or unpleasant.

"Mom, are you listening to me?" He watched as she hummed and glanced at him, eyes showing her fatigue and hopelessness.

" _Si, Alejandro, que quieres?_ I told you already that it'll be cold in the desert, just take all your hoodies and you'll be okay." He groaned and plopped down on the bed facedown, holding the pillow over his head as his eyes landed on a green and yellow jacket, the one his dad had gifted his older brother with after his admittance in the navy had been approved.

Then he looked back at the hoodies, and grunted.

"Ugh, but they are not fancy, or cool, they are dull and boring, I need to keep my style when I go to the Garrison." She chuckled, and he felt a pout forming, why did she love to laugh at him so much? He was at a crossroads, dammit.

" _No seas tonto_. You'll wear the uniform at all times, you'll barely have any time to wear your normal clothes. Besides, the hoodies are warm, you'll thank me when the night hits the desert, believe me." He fully pouted this time, but eventually stored the clothes inside his suitcase, gathering all his trinkets and photos and other things he wanted to take with him, the bag not being big enough to hold all he wanted.

Watching from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the family photo made last year, the one with all his brothers and sisters and their sons and daughters, and before he knew, he was moving , he sneaked it on the pocket of his jeans, and moved on.

He felt he had all the time in the world to say his goodbyes, burn into his retinas the sight of his home, it's smells and landscapes and the taste of their food, the warmth of the people there, the smell of the ocean and the sounds of the waves breaking ashore.

But a week passed terrifyingly quickly, and he soon found himself at the airport, clutched in between his mother's arms as they parted, trying his best not to cry and failing miserably.

"I promise I'll call every week. I'll give you a report on the Garrison experience, I'll even rate it from 1 to 10, you won't even notice that I'm gone with how much I'm going to call you." His mom chuckled and brushed his tears away, smiling.

"See that you do, son, we'll miss you." She kissed his cheek, and then he was flying, miles and miles away from the only home he'd ever known.

Once at the Garrison, though, time flew by unnoticed, between introductions to teachers, students, a tour to the facilities, learning his schedule, finding his room, meeting his roommate, getting the uniform, the medical check ups, the paperwork....It actually took him three days to be able to call his family, and he felt guilty as heck, but then he began talking, his excitement shadowing his self-hate, and he soon found himself chatting animatedly with his mom, explaining the events that had transpired.

"And, oh my god you wouldn't believe who I saw a while ago! It was Takashi Shirogane! Like, that guy is my hero! I wanted to ask for an autograph, but he was talking with this dude who looked super broody and angry and I lost my nerve." He frowned, remembering the guy with the dark mullet, and the way the color of the uniform had crashed with his whole complexion, his light, and the color of his eyes.

It didn't fit him at all.

The look on his face and the sizzling of his light spoke of intensity, passion, fire, the color red would have looked much better on someone so fierce, he was sure of it.

Completely opposite to his roommate, whose glow was as warm as sunlight and just as bright, bubbly and affectionate and open to anyone who was willing to receive his love.

He was wonderful. He said as much.

"Oh, oh, also, you couldn't believe my roommate, mom. He's the sweetest guy in the whole universe. He's called Hunk and he's so cool and smart and nice? He can cook, and I legit cried when he made pasta last night, he let's me cuddle at night with him and helps me study and I-?! He's the best, mom." He noticed the moment his mother's eyes lit up, excitement crawling it's way to the surface. And he knew before she even opened her mouth what she was going to say, and how he was going to have to crush her hopes, no matter how much it hurt.

 _"Lance, sweetie, is he_ -" He raised his hand and shook his head.

"Sorry mama, he's not. He's just a really good friend, the best I ever had, really, but.....I don't feel that way about him." He tried to look apologetic, he didn't want her to suffer, but even though he couldn't shine, he had the feeling he would know if he ever met his soulmate, which was ludicrous, because he had no way of knowing.

Noticing if someone loved him? Yeah, their light could reveal that, to some extent, but the shine soulmates and _starlings_ emitted was something completely different, and he really had no way of checking if said person was the special one.

He didn't think he ever would.

 _"That's okay, forget I said anything. Now, what were you saying about his cooking skills?"_ He brightened up once more, wiling his dark thoughts away, explaining animatedly about Hunk's abilities and inventions, then about the ships and simulations and every cool bit of tech the school had.

When he finished, two hours later, he wished his mom good night and crawled into the covers next to Hunk, who muttered a sleepy greeting before cuddling him softly.

Another day gone by.

Another step closer to his dream.

\--

At seventeen years old, he came to admire the boy with fire in his eyes and a way of flying that took his breath away, he wanted to befriend him and take the pain away from his eyes, wondering what his face would be like when he smiled.

_'Maybe he's closed off because of personal reasons, son, don't take it to heart. I'm sure if you keep on insisting, keep on trying, eventually, he will respond, maybe he's just been hurt one too many times and doesn't want to open up again. Everyone deals with emotions differently, but love is always the same, show him yours, and I'm sure one day, you'll see his smile.'_

At seventeen years old, he met a boy that always looked on the verge of crying, his eyes holding such anger and desperation that he just wanted to hold him tight and take away the darkness smothering his pretty green.

_'Maybe someone he knew was on that mission, Alejandro, maybe he's trying to deal with loss in his own way, looking for someone to blame, to ease the pain. But sometimes things just happen, and we have to accept them no matter how much they hurt, although that doesn't mean we have to do it alone. You can support him, show him you care, that you're his ally, that you believe in his words, and I'm sure, with time, his sorrow will ebb away.'_

At seventeen years old, Takashi Shirogane fell from the sky and he met again with the boy of the amethyst eyes, they ran away and sought answers, and that led them to the biggest discovery ever made, it led them to their destiny, led them to _Blue_.

_'I'm sure you'll be able to do anything you set your mind to, Lance. I'll see you soon, son, you need to come back this weekend, you hear me? We miss you.'_

At seventeen years old, he shot up into the stars to fight a war long overdue, leaving behind everything he'd ever known and loved in search for answers about his birth, answers about his fate, and the reason he'd been called so earnestly since the day he'd understood words.

He steeled his will, held his tears, and drove through the wormhole before him, feeling deep in his gut like it was meant to happen, like the stars couldn't wait anymore for his arrival, praying with all his heart that his family didn't think he was gone, that they weren't suffering because of him.

At seventeen years old, he left without saying goodbye, longing for the day he could return home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on tumblr :
> 
> https://ultiwrites.tumblr.com/


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